


12 Days of Fanfic

by xDomino009x



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Final Fantasy XIII, Mass Effect, Overwatch (Video Game), Tomb Raider (Video Game)
Genre: (Or the lore equivalent of Christmas at least), Best Friends, Children, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Christmas Pranks, Christmas Tree, Dad:76 - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, Dress Up, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gift Fic, Innuendo, McCree in a christmas poncho, Mistletoe, Naked Cuddling, One Shot, Piracy, Presents, Sibling Rivalry, Toasting, Traditions, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, christmas day, christmas with family and friends, cliches, kinda Dom/Sub maybe?, no Shimadacest here!, shimada bros, the BAMF buckle, they're just being bros and friends!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-12 09:02:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9065164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xDomino009x/pseuds/xDomino009x
Summary: A collection of fics from a few fandoms, written with Christmas in mind!We all have our own ways to celebrate, and so do these guys.





	1. Leliana / Mahariel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saphean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saphean/gifts).



> It's finished! A few days late but no worries right :)
> 
> See the chapter names if you're just wanting specific pairings ( a / means it's romantic, a & means it's platonic)
> 
> Hope you enjoy :3

The bard sighed deeply.

“The Blight ruins everything, non?” She rested her head on the elf’s shoulder, red hair tickling her pointed ear.

They sat in silence for a while with the heat from the campfire washing over them, creeping into their tent through the open flap. Without it and the thin blankets they'd tugged around themselves they'd be freezing. A cold breeze contended with the fire’s warmth around their feet.

“How so?”

Leliana chuckled and huddled closer to her warden.  “Have you not kept track of the days?”

Truthfully, since Ostagar she hadn't. There hasn't been much call to remember certain dates since the king had died and she and Alistair had been forced to fight the Blight alone while keeping an eye out for Loghain and his loyal men. The Grey Wardens had been given many enemies all of a sudden, and with just two of them remaining it was even more important they survived at least until the Archdemon was slain.

Leliana nodded sagely as Cara Mahariel explained this and sighed again. “Of course.” She waited for a moment before she continued, “Well it's almost First Day. Just a few more nights now. ”

Cara nodded. She knew First Day was much more important to the human population than it had been for her clan. The elves had never celebrated the same way humans had.  “It's been getting colder,” she pointed out, wrapping her arm tighter around Leliana’s waist. “Honestly I'm glad to be sharing a tent right now.” Leliana laughed and kissed her cheek, “Yes, so am I. I wondered though Cara, do your people celebrate the same? With gifts and dancing and music?”

Cara shrugged slightly. “We mainly celebrate the changing of seasons. We'd celebrate WIntersend, but nothing as fanciful as what you're probably used to from Orlais.” She'd heard stories from the bard of how the Orlesians celebrated, with their hair as big as possible and their gowns even bigger. Leliana had told her many stories of her time in Orlais,  always with such fondness in her voice that the elf wondered if she missed that life, if they'd have ever been more than friends if she'd had that life when they'd met.

“I see…” Leliana muttered, reaching up to play with Cara’s hair. “I only ask because I saw this at Denerim last time we walked through the market.”

She reached into her pack, back in the chilly depths of their tent, and pulled out a silky length of green fabric. It was embroidered with small pink flowers which were surrounded by darker green leaves. Cara took it gingerly, afraid to break it. She'd never owned something so delicate before, always using what was practical instead of what looked good.

“It's pretty!” It felt like a dull way to describe it, but Cara didn't really know what was expected of her. She was used to a gift having a purpose, not being part of a celebration or to make her look fancy.

“Here let me.” Leliana reached up and pulled the string from the elf’s hair. “You always wear your hair in such a simple tie,” she commented absentmindedly, combing her fingers through blonde hair to neaten it before wrapping the silk tie around it. “I thought this would look good. I was right.” She hummed a short tune happily, maybe half a stanza of a song she'd sung for Cara before.

“Thank you Leliana.” They sat in silence for a moment. Cara grabbed Leliana’s hand and smiled. “Would you… like to dance?” She didn't know how to dance. Maybe she could learn in time for First Day.


	2. Widowmaker / Sombra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to Quibbs (go check out their tumblr) for the inspiration on this chapter! Awesome art buddy, love it :D

Widowmaker stalked the upper floor of her château. It wasn't often she reached the level of frustration where she was actually stalking, but here she was with a scowl on her face, icey enough to wither the roses that decorated the corridor in bone china vases. Seeing her in such a vile mood, Reaper hesitated before walking over. He had half a mind to turn around and talk to her later, but if her mood soured further she might seek him out soon - through the scope of the Widow's Kiss.

“Gabriel?” the assassin greeted, questioning his arrival as though he was a nuisance no more noteworthy than a wasp come in through the window. He opened his mouth to speak, cracked skin stretching impossibly thin over his gaunt cheeks, but Widowmaker cut him off before he had even got the first word out, “Have you seen Sombra?”

Gabriel thought back to a few hours ago when the hacker had last spoken to him. He doubted Widowmaker would be appeased by that though so he just shrugged instead. “No.” His heavy jacket rustled as he moved.

His expression shifted slightly as his eyes fell to the festive design on the front of the bright green jumper Amélie was wearing.

“Why are you wearing that?”

Amélie looked down, a look of disgust on her face. The bright green was broken up by a band of snowflakes in the most lurid red she had ever seen, beneath which several white reindeer reared up on their hind legs. Above the line of snowflakes two gingerbread men held candy canes over her chest. She winced and picked a small bobble of wool from the garment, flicking it to the side. As the wool stretched Reaper saw flashes of purplish skin underneath.

“It's that foolish girl's idea of a joke.” Widow muttered through painfully gritted teeth, “My closet was empty this morning too.”

Reaper held back a deep chuckle at the thought of the best assassin Talon had to offer being forced to wear a Christmas jumper to preserve her modesty. He imagined she wasn't looking for Sombra exactly, more for her neck to wring and possibly break.

He sighed and rummaged through his pockets. “Well, Sombra asked me to give you this last I saw her.”

Widowmaker snatched the small parcel from him quickly, looking at it suspiciously as it sat innocently in the palm of her hand. Red wrapping tied up with a green bow. “Why couldn't she deliver it herself?” She raised an eyebrow as she jabbed the box with a finger.

Nothing happened.

Again, Reaper sighed. He did that a lot when he stayed at the château with the assassin. “Just open it to keep her quiet.”

“Fine.” Widow cracked the lid of the box, peered inside and squinted at the purple glow that came from within the package “What is -”

With a burst of purple light the box erupted in her hands, a flurry of pixel like shapes merging, almost faster than she could react, into the shape of a certain troublesome hacker.

“Surprise!”

Sombra announced, beaming as she let herself fall and forced Amélie to catch her, princess style, in her arms. An exercise of trust, maybe, but she knew the assassin wouldn't drop her. 

She'd come equipped with a small sprig of mistletoe that she held over the glaring woman's head before pecking her on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, Amélie!”

“I hope you didn't think it would be a good surprise, cherie.” Widow tipped Sombra from her arms, avoiding her eyes for a long few seconds.

“Pfft, no!” Sombra chuckled at the notion, wrapping Widowmaker’s long ponytail around a hand, kerning her head back slightly and and sneaking her other hand up under that hideous knitted jumper. She'd keep her on it for as long as possible just to enjoy the petty victory. She leant in slowly and whispered, loud enough for Gabriel to hear, “I'm very deep in Santa's naughty list this year.”

Reaper pulled a face and turned away from them, throwing his hands up and ways he started walking.

He had no clever excuse, so he left them with “I have to find something to do.”


	3. Shepard / Garrus

“Neve?”

Neve Shepard looked over to the other side of the bed, where her husband sat removing his shirt. It had taken her a while to get used to how turians took their clothes off, over the very unhuman shape of their bodies, but now it was as normal as watching another human undress. “Garrus?” She wondered what he wanted.

“Quilo!”

The shout confused them for a second, but a small figure bounced out from behind the foot of the bed, where apparently their young son had been hiding. He looked like a miniature of his father, despite neither of them being his biological parents.

Quilo had always been excited by the idea of christmas - he had been there the first time Garrus and Neve had celebrated it together as a couple in their own home, after they’d taken him in as an orphan of the Reaper War. Barely even a toddler at the time, Quilo didn't remember anything before his new family. But the chance to get presents always excited the boy, and even though Garrus had tried to teach him at least some measure of turian discipline the way Shepard built up to the big day, December 25th, always made him forget everything his father had taught him.

Neve sat up and leant over to pat his head. “Sweetie, what are you doing out of bed?”

The young turian jumped onto the end of the bed and bobbed up and down on the spot.“I’m too excited to sleep mama!” She could tell. His mandibles were flared out to the sides at angles she thought should be impossible. She laughed and sighed as Garrus nudged him with a warning of, “Quil, do as your mother says.”

Quilo pulled his mandibles close against his chin and pulled a face. Neve could hardly read it but his tone told her he was supposed to be pouting in turian fashion. “Daddy, I don't wanna sleep!”

“Quilo Shepard-Vakarian,” she enunciated his name very clearly. He looked up, worry in his golden eyes. “You go to your bed or Santa won't bring you any Christmas presents.”

Her threat was clearly a success. Even though Garrus didn't believe anyone like Santa could exist and constantly questioned the logic of a jolly old man in a red coat flying around the earth in a sleigh powered by flying creatures called reindeer, he didn't point out that small flaw. Instead he grinned as Quilo gasped and scampered back to his room without another word or a backwards glance.

He climbed into bed, muttering something about how the reindeer at the place humans called the Zoo had not been flying. Neve chuckled and kissed him on the cheek. His mandibles twitched as he pressed his forehead to hers. She grinned and rolled back under the duvet to cuddle up to him. He was always so warm.

\- x -

The next morning they were woken by the enthusiastic cries of, “Mama, Daddy! Wake up! It's morning!” Garrus cracked his eyes open first, nudging Neve awake ashe moved to check the digital clock on the bedside table. It was indeed morning, very early morning too. He groaned and swung the over-excited child onto the bed with them where he started to jump playfully on them.

Neve coughed, winded, as he leaped onto her stomach with a giggle. Garrus scooped him up and muttered in his ear, “Quilo, careful jumping on your mother. Humans are squishy, even if they can save the galaxy.”

Neve looked as offended as she could. Quilo laughed and squirmed to break free of his father’s grasp. As soon as he’d earned his freedom he found himself captured in another set of arms. “Come here little man,” Shepard said as she lifted him up and sat him on her shoulders. For his size Quilo was surprisingly light, like most turians she supposed. “Time to see if Santa left anything for you.”

The two of them headed downstairs in their pyjamas, while Garrus remained upstairs to get dressed. He smiled at the squeals of joy coming from downstairs as Quilo found all the boxes with his name on them. Even if he did doubt Santa was a real person, Christmas was always a day he looked forward to sharing with his family.


	4. Lara / Sam

Lara groaned into her pillow as she felt hands shaking her shoulder. “Sam, it’s too early.” her voice was muffled but Sam seemed to understand her. She chuckled behind her and tutted loudly so Lara could hear the faux disappointment.

“It’s never too early,” Sam informed her, “You told me that remember.” She sounded very smug. Lara didn't think it suited her, but she was too tired to make witty comments right now.

“To study.” She had meant it’s never too early to study, for a test for example. Like the one they’d both have to sit after the Christmas holidays were up. University was the only place she could imagine being, yet she was resentful the threat of a mid term exam hung over the holiday season.

With a chuckle Sam pulled Lara onto her back, instead of letting her recoil under the duvet and into her pillow further. “Maybe I’m studying you.” She straddled her waist, knees on either side of the wannabe archaeologist's body. Lara rolled her eyes, “Can you get any more cheesy?”

With minimal effort she pushed sam off her and swung her legs out of bed. Her bare feet hit the cold wooden flooring, sending a shiver down her spine. When she stood up Sam brought her hands to her mouth, surprised and amused.

Lara stood in front of her, naked, with a winning smile on her lips that Sam was sure only she got to see. “Fine. Study away.”

Sam did, with her eyes first, then her hands, pushing Lara back until her legs hit the front of the window - curtains thankfully closed - and nudged her until she sat. then she straddled her again with a wink. “Comfy?” 

Lara hummed in reply as Sam leant down to kiss her.

“Another snow day.” she muttered, leaning away and looking down at Lara. she was still entertained by the nakedness of the woman beneath her while she was in fleecy pyjamas with a sigh she leant back, replying on Lara’s grip on her elbows to stop her falling backwards. “Wanna go out today?” She was restless already.

Lara shrugged.

“Well what do you want to do?” Sam pressed her, pressing against her at the same time to drape herself over the back of the chair. Lara laughed, kissing Sam’s shoulder softly, “Stay under the duvet with you all day, but we’d both get restless.”

“I don’t mind staying in if that’s what you want.”

Lara nodded, “We can just watch a film.” With a sigh Sam jumped up, hurried over to the TV they’d set up at the foot of the bed and switched it on, rummaging through a wicker basket for the right remotes. After finding them she leaped onto the bed and buried herself under the duvet.

“Maybe a horror movie?” she asked, patting the empty space beside her which was rapidly growing cold. Lara stood up with a smile, turned up the thermostat and grabbed her nightgown on the way to the bed and climbed under the covers with her girlfriend.

“Yeah,” she scoffed, “A Christmas horror movie. Good luck with that Sam.”

Sam laughed and wrapped her arms around Lara’s waist, dropping the remote on her stomach and hiding her hands inside the soft fabric of the nightgown. Lara hissed. Her hands were freezing.


	5. Hawke / Isabela

Ria Hawke shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “How much colder is is going to get Isabela?”

The self proclaimed pirate Queen turned around with a small frown on her lips. She stalked across the deck of the ship until she stood right in front of the taller woman with her hands on her hips. “That's ‘Captain’ to you,” she hissed, the threat clear in her voice. The Champion of Kirkwall she may be on land, at sea she was just another one of Isabela’s crew. One with minimal responsibilities or relevant skill but a crew mate all the same.

Ria nodded. “Captain.”

Isabela sighed and adjusted her hat, swishing the plumed feather as she did. “It's First Day and you're at sea. We're you expecting tropical winds?”

Said wind, that was in no way tropical, blew harder against the straining sails of the ship as though to prove a point. Hawke shivered again, but Isabela grinned up at the bellowing fabric of the sails with a gleam of excitement in her eyes. She was in her element here, the wind and the cold did little to dampen her adventurous spirit. She was wearing less than Ria, yet she didn't seem to feel the chill.

Ria sighed, “No but I wasn't expecting to be in the middle of the ocean this late in the year.”

When she had agreed to sail towards the sunset with her pirate love, Hawke had expected they'd be back in Kirkwall within a few months. But instead, they'd been gone for almost half a year, with no sign of turning back to Kirkwall before the year was out and honestly Ria was missing home.

“Go wait for me in my cabin,” Isabela interjected her thoughts, gripping her hand and refusing to meet her eyes,  “We'll talk later.”

Hawke nodded again, “Yes Captain.”

\- x -

Ria had been pacing for about half an hour by the time Isabela entered the cabin. She'd been able to hear the captain barking orders at the men on deck through the closed doors. She was still amused that the crew was almost exclusively men. Isabela liked showing her authority over them too much to have another woman undermine her charms.

She walked over and jabbed Ria in the chest as she spoke, her brows furrowed. “You questioned me on the deck.” She would have been fuming at any other member of her crew, but she only felt mildly annoyed at Hawke. She was getting soft.

“I'm not part of your hierarchy Isabela,” Hawke reminded her coolly, shrugging off the fur throw she'd pulled around her shoulders.

Isabela arched an eyebrow at the challenge and smirked. “That's ‘Captain’ to you.” She stepped forwards and brought a dagger from the sheath at her thigh. Hawke gave it a quick glance and stepped towards it so the tip of the blade was against her stomach, whispering, “Captain.”

“That's better.” Isabela slipped the blade of the dagger beneath the ties of Ria’s tunic and tugged them loose, a skill that had been practiced many times before. She could even do it with her teeth if she wanted, if her hands were occupied elsewhere.

“You don't have to follow my orders,” she shoved the Champion back against the many colourful silk cushions of the bed with as grin, “so long as you remember who's on top.”

Hawke fumbled to pull the tunic off over her head as the pirate straddled her and traced patterns on her stomach with the pommel of the dagger.

“And who would that be?”

Isabela tossed the dagger. The blade hit the wall, already covered in small holes where it had been used as a dart board by the ship's captain, with a hollow thud. “Guess.” She kissed her roughly and found the ties of Ria’s breaches with one hand. “Happy First Day, Oh, illustrious Champion.”

Hawke hummed and wrapped her arms around her waist. Happy First Day indeed.


	6. Mercy and McCree

Jesse sighed, “Pass the cranberry sauce would ya, Angie?”

It was right in front of him, in the middle of their table for two at the fancy restaurant they’d pooled their money together to get. It sat beside the glass vase that held a small sprig of mistletoe. Angela nudged it about half an inch towards him with the end of her fork and continued eating.

It had been too long since they’d sat down together for a proper meal, so in honour of spending their first Christmas together since both joining Overwatch they’d decided to go out for a meal. It had been expensive, but worth it.

Angela had swapped her lab coat for a white jacket, with a strip of pale fur along the bottom hem and around the collar and sleeves. It was hung on the back of her chair, placed their by the wannabe cowboy who had just about been convinced to change his red serape for a green poncho with jingling bells sewn on along the edges.

He hated it, and that made Angela love it even more.

“I gotcha somethin’,” he announced suddenly, digging through a pocket hidden under the poncho. Angela waited patiently, taking another mouthful of roast turkey as she did, looking at the half jar of sauce smeared over Jesse’s own food. That man had no sense of good measure.

He produced a small box and held it out to her, flipping it open smartly with his thumb. She looked at the glittering gem set in the silver ring, slightly taken aback. “Is this the part where I say ‘I do’?” she joked with a grin.

Jesse coughed on the potato he’d stuffed into his mouth and struggled to swallow. “I mean, ya can if you want,” he tried to save himself, “but there ain’t no one forcin’ ya.”

“It’s beautiful, Jesse, thank you.” She plucked the ring from the box and admired it for a moment before slipping it onto her finger carefully. It twinkled in the light as she rotated her hand beneath the chandelier on the ceiling. Jesse hummed, “Perfect fit.”

Angela blushed quickly and frowned. “I forgot to bring your present with me.” she had it all prepared too, in two neatly wrapped packages back on the counter in her apartment. She couldn't believe she’d been so clumsy as to leave them there. “I guess you should come round for a drink after this?”

Jesse beamed at the offer, “You know I’d never turn ya down Angie.”

The fridge at her home was stocked with a few different beers, for when he came over for movie nights or to watch sports neither of them really understood or cared about. Just like he kept hot chocolate and rose in his quarters in the rare chance they stayed at his place when he was home from wherever Overwatch had shipped him off to.

Angela didn't like his quarters, but had never said as much.

\- x -

After their meal they found themselves stumbling through the door to Angela’s apartment. She fumbled with the lock to let them both in, where they collapsed on the couch in a fit of tipsy giggles. Her cheeks were rosy red, from the cold and the drinks she’d been offered all evening. Jesse McCree looked no worse for wear, but he’d lost all his volume control and had shouted something about his gifts as soon as the door had been closed.

Trying to regin some measure of composure Angela rose to her feet, still laughing a little, and retrieved both packages. She tossed one to him and he immediately started to rip away at the packaging.

Candy Canes and gingerbread men were littered on the floor, printed onto the paper he tore away from the length of leather.

“Aww, Angie, you shouldn't have!”

He stood up and wrapped the belt around his waist, looking for the buckled. Not finding one he muttered, “Swear i didn't drink that much. Gimme a hand darlin’.”

Angela didn't help him. Instead she handed him the second gift and watched as he opened this one with a little more caution. The glint of gold caught his eye. As the wrapping fell away his grin widened.

 **BAMF** , written in big bold letters, stood out on the shiny belt buckle. He looked up at her and dropped the present, wrapping his arms around her instead. “I do love you, Angie.”

Angela laughed. He was drunk. But he had spent almost a week looking longingly in that window display. “I love you too, cowboy.” He was her best friend, her brother. The family she hardly had growing up.

And, finally, she was spending christmas with him.


	7. Jack / Miranda

Miranda stared at the bottle on the side, the golden lettered label and the few dregs left in the bottom. “Jack!” 

A few clatters came from upstairs. 

Their apartment wasn't as fancy as Shepard’s on the Citadel had been, but in light of the recent rebuilds all over the Galaxy, and the death tolls of the Reaper attacks, they had the best money could buy. Miranda had a lot of that.

“Yeah babe?” The shaved head of Subject Zero appeared around the corner of the upstairs landing. She was grinning. She knew what was wrong.

Miranda grabbed the bottle and sighed, “What’s this?”

“Erm…” Jack stared at it, confused, for a second. “A bottle?”

Putting it back on the side Miranda flicked it with a painted nail. It made a hollow chink sound. Jack winced at the noise, her smile faltering. “It’s empty, Jack,” Miranda stated. It was obvious, even from up the stairs, that the bottle sitting on the kitchen counter was supposed to be filled with some colourful liquid instead of transparent. Maybe if it had been a bottle of water she’d be able to get away with joking, but as it was she doubted it.

The ex convict shrugged as she sauntered downstairs. She was a fair few inches shorter than her girlfriend, especially when Miranda was wearing those high heels that gave her an extra couple of inches and made her ass look great.

“Yeah, it was pretty good,” Jack muttered, tapping her fingers on the neck of the bottle before grabbing it and tossing it into the recycling bin.

Miranda looked shocked and appalled. “Pretty good?” she questioned, her eyes wide, “Do you know how much this cost?”

“Nope.” Jack was lying through her teeth. Considering that now it had to be imported through half fixed mass relays and pirate infested space Miranda was lucky to get it for the price she did. “Hope it wasn’t expensive, wasn’t that fuckin’ good.”

“Jack,” Miranda sighed and took a seat on the couch, patting the cushion next to her for Jack to follow suit. She sat on her feet, which annoyed the retired Cerberus operative but Miranda didn't say anything about that. Instead she took her hand and explained to her like she was a child, “that’s not the point, it cost -”

“Save it, Cheerleader.” Jack wafted away her condescending tones with her free hand, before grabbing a wrapped bottle from behind the couch. Convenient that she'd left it there.

“Just take this.”

Miranda unscrewed the lid and sniffed it. Spiced apple wafted towards her from the open bottle append she grinned, shaking her head. “You played a prank for Christmas?”

“Yeah.” Jack flashed her a winning smile.

“Typical,” Miranda replied, kissing her on the cheek with a laugh.


	8. Sera / Josephine

The door banged open. “Hey, look Josie!”

Josephine looked up with an irritated frown which quickly melted away when she saw the elf. All day she'd been bombraded by the various messages that had been coming through for different members of the inquisition. By now she was getting sick of it and the break from mundane couriers was welcome. Still, she did have a lot to do, and the overly excitable elf was never good company when she needed to concentrate.

“Sera, I'm busy.” She sighed and finished jotting down whatever notes she needed for preparing the hold for the coming festivities on the ink filled parchment. “There's so much still to plan for tomorrow.”

There really was. The flowers arrangements had to be prepared to please both Ferelden and Orlesian nobility. The drapes had to be rehung with the colours of the Inquisition. Wreaths and banners and trees had to be brought into the halls and maybe she could convince the Mage to be work some magic and create a flurry of snowflakes to dance around the ceiling.

Sera pouted and stamped her foot.

“But look!” She gestured to herself, throwing her arms out in a pose, Notice anything different?”

Josephine looked her up and down quickly, coking her head ro her side and putting the feather tip of her quill against her lips for a moment. There wasn't much different, same goofy grin, same pointy ears.

“Have you cut your hair?” It did seem scruffier than usual.

“What? No, not that!”

“Can you just tell me Sera? I really am busy.”

“Fine!” Sera pulled the red tunic out so Josie looked down at it. “Look, no stains!”

“Oh, I'm glad to see it. We done Sera.”

“You've been a half decent influence.” Sera nudged her in the ribs and then danced out of reach as a feather wafted towards her face threateningly.

“Yes. Apparently I'm rubbing off on you.”

“Yeah you are.” Sera winked, Josephine blushed and waved her hand to shut her up.

“Hush! The Inquisitor is right over there.”

“I know. Good luck planning!” Sera turned and headed towards the door with a skip in her step and a pleased smile on her face.

“Thank you. And Sera,” Josie called after her, “No buckets.”


	9. Soldier:76 & the gang

She'd been looking at him for quite a while with a silly grin on her face. Occasionally she exchanged glances with some of the other younger members of Overwatch. Finally Hana spoke up and bounded over to him with a beam and a wrapped present in pale blue paper with pastel pink polka dots in her hands. 

“Merry Christmas Dad!” Around the table there was a small cheer from some of the soldiers Jack Morrison would call children and laughs from those he thought of as his equal comrades.

He took the gift cautiously, expecting it to be rigged with explosives - Jamison was grinning that manic grin of his down the other end of the table.

“I'm not your father,” he muttered, but he was smiling. He hadn't intended to become as father of four when he'd agreed to come back to the organisation, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

He'd found it worrying that ‘his kids’ also saw Angela as their mother figure at times. What did those kids think his relationship was with the young medic?

He pulled the paper apart carefully and opened the box hidden within it all. Hana was good at wrapping presents. The mug inside was simple, dark grey with bright red writing on one side.

WORLD'S BEST DAD

He looked around at the others, reaching over to his wine glass as he took the mug from the box. They cheered as he poured the wine into the mug and took a swig.

Down the table Lena sighed and patted her stomach. “Well, I'm full.” She knew Emily would be annoyed if she'd knew she'd left food on her plate, but Emily wasn't here tonight.

Soldier:76 was though. “Eat your vegetables kid,” he growled. Lena laughed. More like Dad:76.

“Yes Dad.”

\- x -

“Gabriel would have been laughing.” Ana had come to sit with him after the mess Hall had been cleared of the debris that had been left in the wake of the Overwatch pre-Christmas meal. They'd been supposed to have it on Christmas, but Lena’s girlfriend in England wouldn't hear of it.

Jack sighed and took a sip of his coffee. Ana had brought that with her. It tasted odd after wine.

“Instead he's dead.”

Ana put her mug down with a clatter on the saucer.  It was lucky the mug was only half full of tea. Jack would say half empty. “We both know that's not true.”

With a sigh Jack grabbed his mug and looked at the dark brown liquid inside. He took another sip; it was bitter. He knew he wasn't the only one who wished they could pretend Gabriel had died in the explosion, as much as he'd hated knowing he'd been partly responsible for his best friend's death.

Ana wanted to think he was dead too - easier than thinking she had abandoned him.

He raised his mug. “Well, a toast to one unlucky son of a bitch. Merry Christmas Reyes, wherever you are.”

The red lettering glinted in the light as he brought it to his scarred lips again.


	10. Lightning / Fang

Fang sighed and put her hands on her hips. She didn't really know if there was a point to what Lightning was doing, decorating a snow covered tree with pretty baubles and little fairy lights. “Sunshine, this is a bad idea.”

Lightning ignored her objections and continued to add the decorations on the branches. “It’s tradition,” she told her, not looking over as she found more places for the little glass balls.

Fang scoffed. Lightning had some odd traditions that she wanted to carry on down in ‘hell on earth’.

“Maybe in your safe little haven on Cocoon.  We don't throw sparkles on trees down on Gran Pulse.”

“Well maybe Pulse-” Lightning winced as she anticipated the scowl on Fang’s face.

“Gran Pulse,” the pulsian woman interrupted, bitterly.

Lightning corrected herself, “Gran Pulse,” and continued, “Maybe Gran Pulse should lighten up.”

She loved the holiday seasons when she was younger, when her parents had been alive. It had been an excuse to get presents and eat good food with family. After it had been a day when she'd throw herself into her work and avoid her sister, leaving a present for her on the table before she left in the morning and not returning until after she was asleep.

It was nice to be decorating a tree again, even if it was on Gran Pulse instead of home on Cocoon. 

“Yeah. We could let all the beasties know where we are. Great plan Light.” Fang was sarcastic as always, and had brought her spear with her just in case. It lay in the snow next to the soldier's weapon, which never left her side.

“Claire!”

Serah ran towards them, no weapon, no thought for what could be out on the cold plains of Gran Pulse. Fang stiffened and scanned the snowscape behind the younger Farron sister. There was nothing there besides the tall figure of her fiancé jogging behind her. Fang relaxed and moved closer to Lightning.

“Serah!,” Lightning greeted her sister with a hug, “You two are just in time.”

Fang had heard of the times when the Farron sisters didn't get along, when they weren't as close as they seemed now. She couldn't imagine it. She had met the pink haired soldier on a quest to fight her focus and save her sister.

Snow laughed and rubbed the back of his neck as he caught his breath. “Hey sis. Turned the lights on without us?”

“You took too long,” Lightning told him, shrugging and turning back to the tree with a few more decorations. “And I'm not your sister.”

Snow held a hand over his heart, a wounded look on his face.

“Easy soldier,” Fang murmured, wrapping her arms around Lightning’s waist and pulling her close, “Don’t go ruining your tradition day now.”

Lightning sighed and kissed her cheek. “It’s called Christmas, Fang. Christmas.”


	11. Genji & Hanzo

Hanzo stared at the outfit held in the mechanical hands. The cold metal still made him feel sick sometimes, just remembering the circumstances of it’s creation, but he was slowly getting over that. Instead he stared at the bright red felt costume some more and winced. 

“This is hardly traditional, brother.” 

When Genji had offered to pick out his clothes for the Christmas party Hanzo had been reluctant to accept. He remembered how much of a prankster the younger Shimada brother had been in his youth. He had been right to be suspicious, but had he listened to his gut instinct? No, of course he hadn’t.

So now he was faced with a choice. Ignore the dress code for the party and wear one of his usual selection of yukatas, or wear this hideously garish outfit that might have been rented from a fancy dress shop for all he knew. Genji was waiting in silence, but under that mask Hanzo knew he was smiling at his predicament.

Genji deadpanned, “Of course it is,” his voice distorted a little by the metallic covering over his face and the breather apparatus in his suit.

Hanzo sighed, shaking his head. “Maybe in America, but we are not from America.” They were in America as he spoke, but he didn't want any part of their odd version of Christmas. He was used to the traditions of his household, one present for the children off the adults, then a meal together. He’d heard that it was a much bigger deal here in the Western world, but he hadn't known it was so horrendously commercialised.

“Just put on the hat, Hanzo,” Genji commanded with a chuckle. He tossed it to him, and then took away Hanzo’s yukata as the archer changed with a grumpy, “Fine.”

As he finished putting on the costume he muttered, “Only because it is Christmas.”

Genji looked him up and down, looking as smug as any cyborg ninja ever had. “You look great brother.” his sarcasm was not missed, and Hanzo scowled deeply at him. He felt ridiculous, standing there in a Santa outfit and pretending he liked it. Genji laughed and switched his weight from foot to foot, the bells around his waist jingling as he moved.

“Arigato,” Hanzo forced through gritted teeth, “You look…” there really was only one word to describe Genji’s Christmas outfit, “ridiculous.” 

Genji looked offended under his helmet, although Hanzo couldn't see it. He heard his shocked gasp though and saw him clutch his hand over his heart for dramatic effect. His Little Helper outfit had been hard enough to find, let alone to get over all the parts of his life support suit without tearing it. He’d have a word with Angela when he could about making some areas of the armour more streamlined and fitted for wearing clothes when the need arose.

“Good to see you boys getting along.”

They hadn’t heard the weightlifter approaching, but Zarya clapped them both on the shoulder as she reached them and beamed at them. They were both shorter than her. She looked Hanzo up and down, seeming to accept Genji in his elf costume but finding it odd that the stoic marksman was dressed in a fluffy red and white costume. “Keeping warm for the Winter, Hanzo?” she asked, nudging him in the ribs with enough force to make him stagger. She didn’t seem to realise how hard she’d jabbed him. She kept smiling.

Hanzo sighed, “I told you this was a foolish idea, Genji.”

Sensing that there could be a sibling argument on the way, Zarya made her excuses and left quickly, pulling on her own red and white trimmed hat as she went. The bell on the end rattled as she jogged away.

Genji laughed. “But you still put it on. Who does that make the fool?” He jumped out the way of Hanzo’s lazy swing towards him deftly and shook his head, still smiling under his mask.

“You are lucky it is Christmas, brother,” Hanzo told him sternly.

Genji nodded. “I am aware.”


	12. Shepard / Liara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the one with the canon character death, just so you know...

“That was quite something Bianca.” Liara was out of breath and laying on her back, hidden away under the white sheets that had been thoroughly messed up during the last hour or so. The Commander lay next to her, grinning and propped up on her elbows with her chin in her hands.

“Yeah?” she stroked a little dark mark on the side of Liara’s neck with her thumb. Liara winced ever so slightly - it was still a little tender. “Glad you enjoyed yourself.” she sighed and rolled onto her back, smiling up at the ceiling of their apartment. 

She was so glad to have Liara after everything they had been through, after the Reaper War and the rebuild and everything else that the galaxy had thrown their way. She was still here, and they were still standing strong.

“I had never heard of a tradition that included all this.” Liara seemed to think it was a good tradition all the same. Shepard laughed and felt for her hand.

“Well, on Earth we call it mistletoe,” she found her hand and laced their fingers together. “Usually it’s just a kiss, we might’ve taken it a little far.” They both laughed. It had been one of those times when too far had been great, instead of the usual too far which ended horribly and normally lead Bianca to trying to pull two of her crew out of a fisticuffs fight.

“I don’t mind,” Liara whispered, rolling over to huddle against Shepard’s side. She was warm. Shepard shifted slightly to look at her. “I’m glad. Neither do I.” She was glad for a lot of things right now.

She wasn’t glad when Liara groaned and sat up, wiggling her toes before letting them touch the floor. “Do you want another drink?” she asked as she rose to her feet and headed across to the dresser. They’d left a half finished bottle of wine and two wine glasses, one partly full, on it.

“Please.” Bianca replied with a smile, sitting up a little in bed and stretching out, before recoiling back into the warmth she had created, “Then come back to bed, you side’s gonna get cold soon.”

Liara laughed as she poured the drinks and walked back to the bed with one in each hand. Her bare feet made soft padding noises against the synthetic wooden floorboards. It was nice to just be spending this time with her. She wanted another word to describe it, but sometimes ‘nice’ was all that was needed, “Of course. We wouldn’t want that.”

Bianca took her glass gratefully and took a long swig before placing it on the floor beside the bed and moving to cuddle her bondmate. “So how are you liking your first Christmas so far?”

“It’s been exceptional.” Liara giggled as Bianca beamed, overjoyed that she was enjoying the human tradition. They had yet to get to the gifts, but they had spent the last week decorating with lavish amounts of money spent on sparkling baubles and twinkling lights that Liara would only see once a year unfortunately. It had made their apartment quite breath-taking. “The best I’ll ever have.”

\- x -

Angel Shepard-T’soni sighed and put the tree topper back in its box. It was beaten and damaged and a little rusted in some places, but her mother refused to change it. It was almost twenty-five years old now, even though they’d used to have a family tradition to get a new one each year. That had stopped. Twenty-five years ago, her father had passed away. And they hadn’t got a new tree topper since. 

Angel knew she had been named after the first one her parents had brought together. There were no angels in asari culture, but they were very important in some human cultures. And her mother had loved the word.

Some days her soldier father had told her she was named for their beauty, for their grace and purity. The days when she’d misbehaved at school or felt down about a failed test. She wasn't as clever as her mother.

“I miss father.”

She broke the silence in the Shepard-T’soni household with the statement. Her mother looked up from her glass of red wine. Liara looked tired and frowned at the words for a moment before her expression softened and she moved to sis beside her daughter.

“So do I Angel.” Christmas had never been the same without her.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope it was a good read!  
> That last one was a little sadder than the rest but I've been meaning to look at the lifespan difference for a human/asari relationship for a while and this gave me the opportunity
> 
> As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated! And I will see YOU... In the next fic. Bye bye!


End file.
